


Make Me Want To Surrender

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:32:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Lydia wasn’t expected.  She was a thunderstorm coming in and surrounding him, whipping up chaos in his life and only contemplating the possible destruction after the fact.  He’d never thought about—not once—any of this when she was younger, when all she was to him was his daughter’s best friend.  The girl who Peter Hale bit and psychologically tortured.  The woman who ended Peter Hale’s life.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Want To Surrender

Chris’ mother always said he’d had a thing for redheads. When he was a toddler, his head would turn whenever they passed one on the street. Meeting Victoria at the mixer his parents held all those years ago wasn’t a chance thing and he knew it; they’d been set up, but she was vibrant, intelligent and strong and he fell hard.

Chris has always had a weakness for women like that.

Lydia wasn’t expected. She was a thunderstorm coming in and surrounding him, whipping up chaos in his life and only contemplating the possible destruction after the fact. He’d never thought about—not once—any of this when she was younger, when all she was to him was his daughter’s best friend. The girl who Peter Hale bit and psychologically tortured. The woman who ended Peter Hale’s life.

But mix in a little alcohol and a bad anniversary and—

His hands are travelling up her skirt, catching on the tops of her hold ups and she’s got her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling herself up until she’s got her legs wrapped around his hips. Sliding his hands underneath her ass, Chris holds her against him, her soft, warm body providing a solace he didn’t know he was looking for.

She mumbles words like “bedroom, fuck,” and “oh god,” and Chris is helpless in the face of it. Lydia’s incredible, her pearly skin against his bedsheets and he’s spreading her legs, his stubble scraping her inner thighs before he licks her open, her hands going straight for his hair to direct him. Chris smirks against her, enjoying the forcefulness of it, how she’s not scared to ask for what she wants. It makes him feel a little less like he’s a bad guy for doing this.

There’s no question that they’re going to fuck, and if she wants him to last it has to be soon because it’s been a long while since Chris has had someone like this, and he’s not a young as he used to be. Fumbling in the drawer for condoms he hopes haven’t expired, he unwraps one and rolls it down his cock and then Lydia’s got her hands on his chest, is pushing him back on the bed and yeah, yes, he’ll go with this.

Lydia’s sinking down on him, clenching around him as he holds her hips, his calloused fingers digging into her smooth skin. Her breasts fall over him when she leans down to kiss him, her mouth in a wide smile when she straightens up, a roll of laughter spilling out when he shifts his legs and starts fucking up into her. It’s not cruel laughter, it’s the laughter of someone letting themselves have something they’ve been wanting for a while and Chris wonders how long it’s been for her, if maybe when she—but he can’t think about that, not if he wants to keep doing this.

His left hand travels to her clit, sliding his index finger against it and closing his eyes at the gasping noises she lets out when he gets it right, when she tightens around his cock and her thighs tremble. Chris has never been selfish, has always wanted this to be as good for whoever he’s with as it is for him, but Lydia’s something special. She grabs his hand and uses it like a tool, expertly getting herself off with his fingers and it doesn’t take long before he’s swearing, fucking into her and coming, his right hand gripping her hip so hard, he knows it’ll leave bruises.

Lydia falls forward, her hair matted and sweaty and draping over her back. She presses her lips against his chest and rolls off, waits for him to discard the condom. Chris is a little unsure of what to do and she’s looking at him like she wants answers, so he gets back in the bed, shaking out the blankets, and stares at her in the dimmed lights of his bedroom.

“Stay, if you want,” he says, trying to keep his voice soft.

Her eyes sparkle and the corners of her mouth turn up in a sly smile. “Will I get a repeat performance in the morning?” she asks, curling up on her side to face him.

Chris leans over and kisses her, slow, with a hint of a promise of things to come and smirks. “If you let me sleep. I’m an old man.”

Throwing a leg over his hips and resting her head on his chest, Lydia sighs. “You’ll do for me.”

*

Allison doesn’t take it well at first. There’s a slamming of doors and storming out like she’s a stubborn fourteen year old girl again, but she comes back. She curls up on the couch and bites her lip, looking between Chris and Lydia. “Is this for real?” she asks, her fingers twisting the edge of her sweater.

Lydia’s the one who answers her. “It is. I didn’t—you’re my best friend, Allison. I would never. Not if it wasn’t.”

Allison nods her head, and Chris can see tears in her eyes and, god, can he fuck up his little girl’s life any more than he already has? His family hasn’t done any good in so long, but this, with Lydia, it feels _right_ in a way Chris didn’t know it could. It’s different to what he had with Victoria, and sometimes he wonders what she would think about this. If she’s somewhere laughing at him for being a middle aged man cliche, or if she understands what he’s had to learn the hard way; that in this life you take your happiness where you can find it.

“Are you happy?” Allison’s eyes are on him, searching like she used to when he would try and reassure her that the playground games were safe, when he’d promise her that he wouldn’t let her fall off her bike.

“I am.” It’s the simple truth, because he wouldn’t risk hurting Allison if it weren’t true. Chris loves his daughter, but Lydia’s offered him a new chance, a new life, and he’d be a fool to turn it down.

“Okay,” she says after a long silence. “I’ll be fine with it.” There’s a tentative smile on her face. “Just give me time.”

*

They get married in the spring time. It’s not big, neither of them wanted it to be; they get enough looks around town without inviting everyone to gawp at them. Allison’s there, as is Scott. Stiles is there, because apparently Scott and he still can’t be separated. Melissa and John arrive together, and even Derek shows up, which Chris can’t help but show his surprise at. Derek shrugs and says he understands what it’s like to be judged by this town. Relations between the Argents and Hales will never be simple, but it’s been better since Peter died.

None of it matters, though. Not when he sees Lydia in a simple pale green dress that sets off her hair and makes her look like a queen. The officiant stands and smiles at them, says words about love, and finding the person you need when you least expect it and then there are rings, and they’re kissing and people are cheering and—

And it feels like something has started.


End file.
